


Guess It's True

by simplyobsessed



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, One Night Stand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 07:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15359673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyobsessed/pseuds/simplyobsessed
Summary: Fresh off her move to the city, Waverly is looking to break loose and act her age. For her, this means one thing: engage in her first one-night stand. The club has been scouted, her outfit chosen, and bed sheets washed. The only thing missing is her perfect partner.





	Guess It's True

**Author's Note:**

> A one-night stand fic without a sex scene...I'm sure this is why you're all here!

Waverly Earp wasn’t spontaneous, not by any means. It brought her great comfort to wake up every morning and know how her day would pan out. She was a planner who scheduled her time days, even weeks, in advance.

And this was no exception.

Sure, the details may be vague and the circumstances undetermined, but Waverly's decision to indulge in her first one-night stand was premeditated. The club was scouted, her outfit chosen, she even went so far as to wash her bed sheets.

Because she needed this.

Since the thought first presented itself not three months prior, shortly after her move to the city, it was persistent. No more Purgatory, no more Champ, no more expectations. Already in her final year at the university—having completed the previous three years via correspondence—Waverly felt she had missed so much. For once, she wanted not only to feel but to act her age.

Not that most young people were putting much forethought into any of their hook ups.

But that was beside the point.

The air was heavy as she stepped out of the library, backpack slung over her shoulder as she left campus behind for the weekend. Rain was in the forecast but not even that could take the bounce from Waverly's step as she set out towards the club. Her good mood was only heightened with each drink, most bought with her own money but several came as gifts from admirers.

A tall, dark-haired man was her latest benefactor. Clearly older and clearly interested, Waverly accepted the drink—something fruity and strong—without question and followed him on to the dance floor.

Briefly, she worried her intentions were too outwardly obvious but shrugged it off. This night was about breaking loose, being carefree.

As it was a Friday night, the club was busy and the dance floor reflected it. Couples paired off, groups of friends danced together. The music was loud and the crowd even louder, but the drinks helped take the edge off for Waverly. It was nothing like she was used to. Nothing like Shorty’s, the run-down cowboy bar she worked while living back home.

It was exhilarating.

The man, whose name she couldn’t recall, kept a respectable distance. Light brushes of finger tips but nothing more. It was Waverly who initiated more contact, practically grinding herself against his front, but there were no protests.

Sweat. Heat. The pounding of the music. Waverly let herself go, her hair flying wild as her head moved to the beat.

She didn’t bother with conversation. The noise aside, what was there to talk about? He was a stranger, one she may or may not have sex with. Typical formalities didn’t seem appropriate, nor did small talk, so she continued to sway her hips to the beat, flashing a smile she could only hope came across as seductive.

But her sways were a little too rough. Liquid sloshed around in the glass as she danced, trickling over her hand, and Waverly eventually had to excuse herself to the bathroom to clean up.

The large, wooden door muffled the music from the club and Waverly was able to think for what seemed like the first time since arriving. Resting her weight against the porcelain sink, she was struck by how out of breath she truly was. The cold water rushed out of the tap as Waverly stuck her hands underneath the flow, wishing it were possible to splash the water over her face without ruining her make-up.

Sweat continued to trickle down her back, between her breasts. With a wet tissue, she patted the skin along her neck to cool herself off before checking herself in the mirror. Slightly dishevelled but still acceptable, she decided.

Fishing her phone out of her purse, Waverly checked the time only to realize hours had already passed since her arrival. Though she was enjoying herself, she knew it was time to get serious.

About the man she left on the dancefloor? She wasn’t quite certain.

Of all those who had approached her, he was by far the most handsome. The chivalry was also appreciated, as were the biceps, but she couldn’t decide whether her interest was motivated solely by her goal. Would she otherwise be giving him the time of day?

Shaking her head, Waverly chastised herself. This wasn’t about choosing someone to marry, only a partner in bed. Not everything required so much forethought.

Cleaned up and rearing to go, Waverly made her way back out into the club and beelined it for the crowded bar. Hard liquor played tricks on her mind and body, beer had always been her go-to, and she was debating whether another shot would be worth it when she stepped on something before knocking into another body.

“I am so sorry,” she apologized quickly, taking a step back.

“No worries,” husked the voice and Waverly looked up to find its source. The mane of red hair, paired with a devilish grin, caught her off guard. “Just a toe, I have nine more.”

The woman’s gaze lingered as she swiped her tongue across her bottom lip. Waverly caught herself staring but couldn’t be bothered to look away. This was her night.

“Let me buy you a drink.” Waverly surprised herself with her confidence. “What’s your poison?”

When the woman tried to shake her off, Waverly insisted. “Alright,” she smiled, seemingly intrigued by Waverly. “I’ll have a beer, Moosehead.”

Having spent three years working the bar in her hometown, Waverly knew how to get the attention of the man behind the counter. After slipping a crisp five in the tip jar following her initial purchase, she had been steadily feeding the jar and it got her just what she wanted. Though the bar was surrounded by patrons, it was her that the bartender made a beeline for.

The two beers were cold against her palms, condensation already forming on the glass. Taking a deep breath, she made her way towards the other woman who was leaning against the far wall. For the first time, Waverly could take in all of her at once. The tight jeans, the loose blue button down.

The toned biceps peaking out from the rolled sleeves.

It was remarkable how quickly the man on the dancefloor was forgotten.

“Thanks.” Even the voice sent a shiver down her spine. “You’re gorgeous, by the way.”

And Waverly thought _she_ was being obvious.

The woman’s confidence was nothing if not attractive and Waverly's cheeks flushed with each new compliment. Cradling her beer, she listened intently as the woman spoke, as they debated shitty beer and even shittier music. Every so often, brown eyes would flick down to plump lips and Waverly's eyes would instinctively mirror the action.

Knowing the other woman was attracted to her lit a spark under Waverly. Clearly this was headed somewhere; what did she have to lose?

From what little she spoke of herself, Waverly gathered that her name was Nicole, she was from the city, and was a police cadet out for the night with a handful of classmates. Paired with the looks being sent her way, that was enough information. Placing her hand at the base of the woman’s neck, Waverly let her desire drive her movements as she pulled Nicole in for a kiss.

_Whoa._

Nearly six months since she had last kissed anyone, Waverly let herself melt into the other woman. Nicole didn’t miss a beat as she kissed back, almost as though she had been expected it. A strong hand wrapped around her waist, guiding her back to the wall. As they broke apart, Nicole teasingly pulled at Waverly's lower lip with her own.

“Well then,” she grinned. If she wasn’t so turned on, Waverly would have smacked the smug look off her face.

“Well then,” Waverly echoed, running her fingers along the back on the woman’s neck. Threading the short locks through her fingers, she guided Nicole towards her again. Though she missed her target slightly in her haste, damn if her stomach didn’t tighten when their lips met for the second time.

_This_ was why she was here.

Now that the ice had been broken, their conversations were being constantly interrupted by kisses and she couldn’t be giddier. It wasn’t until a new pop song started blasting through the speakers that Waverly put any distance between them. Unable to help herself, hips shaking to the beat, she reached out for Nicole's hand. “Dance with me?”

The woman took one final swig from her beer before discarding the bottle. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

And did Waverly show her.

Digging back through her memories, she pulled moves from her high school cheerleading routines as she moved against the woman. Nicole didn’t seem to mind the outward display, though her reddened cheeks could mean she was either embarrassed or turned on.

Waverly chose to presume it was the latter.

When Nicole asked about the moves over another beer, Waverly was quick to mention her cheerleading days. “All four years,” she explained. “And I was head cheerleader in grade 12 so…”

“I can definitely picture you at the top of a pyramid.”

“Well I do like to be on top,” Waverly grinned, raising an eyebrow. She tried not to laugh when Nicole choked on a mouthful of beer but failed miserably. “Too much?”

Trying to regain her composure, Nicole shook her head. “God, no,” she husked.

Their banter was effortless.

Nicole was clearly competitive and Waverly loved a challenge. In their efforts to out-tease each other, she had switched from beer to water just to keep her temperature down and her thirst at bay. At least _that_ type of thirst.

Though she couldn’t tell whether she was winning or losing, Waverly was enjoying herself nonetheless. Nipping at the other woman’s lips, she heard Nicole moan; her own knees practically buckled at the sound.

“I live just off campus.” It came out through staggered breaths but Waverly understood perfectly. Nodding her head, she pulled Nicole flush against her body. The taller woman leaned down to connect their lips again.

Her own clean sheets would have to wait. Twenty minutes in a cab would be a real test of her patience, especially knowing there was another option nearby.

Breaking the contact, Waverly peered up through hooded eyes. “Let’s go.”  
…

It was still dark when Waverly woke but, even in the darkness, it was clear she was not in her own bedroom. Not only were there far too few blankets on the bed but there was also a strong arm thrown across her body, providing its own warmth.

Additionally, there were the bursts of warmth that accompanied each new memory as they presented themselves. Undressing each other, kissing each other, feeling each other; being at the complete mercy of Nicole before returning the favour; repeat. Vivid memories that wouldn’t be fading any time soon.

Closing her eyes, Waverly allowed herself a moment to take everything in. She had done it, she had a successful one-night stand.

But it was time to leave.

Carefully, she lifted Nicole’s arm and slipped out of bed. Once back in her clothes, including her now-wrinkled top, Waverly swiftly gathered her jacket, boots, and purse before making her way out of the room. The sleeping figure showed no signs of movement, just as Waverly hoped.

Or, at least, that’s what she told herself.

Not for the first time did Waverly notice the pull. She had to stop herself from looking back at the woman she was leaving behind. For her, sex and feelings had always gone hand in hand; the adjustment would take some getting used to.

It was a wonder she hadn’t embarrassed herself in the heat of the moment, at her most vulnerable. The sweaty body above her, the nimble fingers, the gentle kisses.

But she closed the bedroom door behind her without a glance. This had been good for her.

Though her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Waverly was too caught up in her own head to notice the giant ball of fur sleeping on the living room rug. “Oh, fudge nuggets,” she whispered as she tripped over the cat, pulling her jacket to her chest.

Vaguely, she recalled seeing the cat the night before but somehow it looked even larger in size and more vibrant in colour without the beer goggles. For a moment, the cat blinked at her through sleepy eyes, as if it were sizing Waverly up, before letting out the loudest meow she had ever heard.

“Shit.”

The whisper was louder this time as Waverly scurried towards the door and away from the beast in front of her. She had nothing against cats, per se, but this particular cat had the potential to ruin her very stealthy walk of shame and that was not an experience Waverly wanted to miss out on.

“Good kitty,” she praised as the cat followed her silently to the door. Her tone appeared to be working as the cat rubbed gently against her legs while she slipped into her boots. “There you go.” She gave it a quick pat on the head. Maybe the cat wasn’t so bad after all.

But then there was another meow which Waverly took as her cue to get out of there. Her coat could wait until she was outside.

It wasn’t until she was a couple of blocks away that Waverly allowed herself another smile. Walking with her head held high, she felt not only accomplished but also satisfied.

She couldn’t wait to tell her sister.

…

Wynonna ended up finding out a lot sooner than Waverly anticipated.

After spending the remainder of the early morning hours lying awake in her own bed, Waverly eventually conceded that her mind was far too busy for sleep. There was a small bakery near her apartment that served her favourite tea in the city so, after a shower to clean away the night, she decided to head out for breakfast.

It was on her walk that her phone vibrated in her pocket. When she saw Wynonna's name light up her screen, panic shot through her. When she took note of the early hour, not even 9:00, her fear only spiked.

“What’s wrong?” It seemed to be the go-to for Waverly when answering her sister’s calls.

Her worries were quickly quelled when Wynonna informed her that she was in Greece, an entire 9 hours ahead of their home province. That did, however, mean that it was an acceptable hour for alcohol to be served. Not that Wynonna could ever be stopped by a clock.

“ _Chill out, baby girl. You’ll get worry lines before you’re 30._ ”

Waverly shook her head. “Only if you keep refusing to accept my weekly Skype calls,” she sighed. Her schedule had been entirely disregarded by her older sister.

“ _Well I’m calling you now, aren’t I?_ ”

From an early age, Waverly had learned it was easier not to argue with Wynonna-logic so she instead chose to use the opportunity to talk with her sister. Or, as it turned out, mostly listen as her own thoughts kept her from providing anything of substance to the conversation.

She tried to concentrate on what Wynonna was saying but her thoughts kept returning to a particular redhead, almost compulsively, until she couldn’t bear it any longer. She needed to tell her sister.

“I slept with someone,” Waverly blurted out, trying her best not to squeal.

When there wasn’t an immediate response, she repeated herself.

“ _Sorry, it’s just…you’re dating again?_ ”

“No, Wynonna, that’s the point. I slept with someone I just met, I had a one-night stand.” If the look she received from the man walking towards her was any indication, she may have said that last part too loudly.

“ _No shit._ ” Her sister almost sounded impressed. “ _Good for you, baby girl_.”

“It was incredible, Wynonna.”

“ _Well, when your only frame of reference is Champ the Chump…_ ”

“It’s not even that,” Waverly exclaimed. Just thinking about it made her cheeks flush. “I just felt so free, you know? I knew we would never see each other again so I could put everything out there. It was the rush and the thrill-”

“ _And I’m going to stop you right there. I’m not nearly drunk enough to hear about my baby sister’s_ thrills _in the bedroom._ ” That was something Waverly could sympathise with, having been exposed to more tales of her sister’s conquests than she cared to admit. But she needed to share her experience with someone; it felt like she was filled to the brim, threating to burst.

“I just want to clarify that this had nothing to do with Champ,” she explained, trying her best to contain her enthusiasm. “This was something I did for myself.”

“ _Hear, hear._ ”

“But who knew multiple orgasms were a real thing?”

“ _Baby girl!_ ” There was that pride again. “ _Damn, I wanna fist bump you so hard right now._ ”

Waverly was beaming. Since the move, pieces of her life had seemingly fallen into place. For the first time in her life, she was thriving in a classroom with students at the same level as her. She was surrounded by others who shared her interests; conversations and debates were insightful instead of infuriating, she was being exposed to cultures she had previously only read about. It felt as though the world had opened for her, exposing pathways she never imagined were there.

This was just one more piece, albeit a piece she hadn’t realized was displaced before leaving Purgatory.

“ _You sure this was a one-time deal?_ ” Waverly scoffed at Wynonna's suggestion. Maybe her excitement was coming off too enthusiastically. “ _You’re gushing a little much for me to believe-_ ”

“I am not! This is infatuation at best,” she concluded, putting an end to her sister’s teasing. How could she be feeling anything for a stranger? “Besides, no contact information was exchanged. This was a one and done kind of deal.”

“ _Sure. Whatever you say_.” She didn’t even bother trying to hide her scepticism. Wynonna had always been blunt, something only exaggerated by alcohol.

But luckily for Waverly, tipsy Wynonna was also talkative Wynonna, so it was easy enough to steer the focus of the conversation onto Wynonna and tales of her most recent adventures. It had been nearly a year since the sisters were last in the same city, so Waverly was all too happy to listen.

Besides, when you were an Earp, catching up with family always included some particularly interesting—if not eccentric—stories. These seemed to be the perfect distraction for Waverly, who was still struggling to shake Nicole from her thoughts.

Similar tales had often annoyed her in the past. Not a jealous person by nature, Waverly hated the feeling that settled in her stomach when listening to her sister rave about her adventures in far off lands. It never seemed fair that her older sister was travelling the world while Waverly was stuck back in their hometown, still living with their aunt, tending bar in the same building that had doubled as her study hall during elementary school.

But she never said anything. Wynonna was family and that meant something. It had always been her sister who pushed Waverly to stick with school, to go to university. In her own way, Wynonna was her biggest and most vocal supporter, so Waverly chose to support her in return. There were very few times in their childhood that Waverly could recall Wynonna sounding as happy as she did when travelling.

And it had gotten easier since her own move. Having a life that felt like her own, with stories to share in return that fell outside of the repetitious cycle of Purgatory gossip, was reassuring. Though Wynonna would tolerate so much discussion about her studies, Waverly knew her sister preferred hearing about the people she was meeting and the parties she was attending.

Even if Waverly still considered her textbooks to be her most loyal of companions, never once cancelling on her. After a night out, Waverly was actually looking forward to a quiet night in with them.

It was then, as Wynonna was recounting her most recent run-in with authorities, that Waverly was struck by a realization. “Oh no.” She stopped in her tracks.

Her backpack. _Her backpack_. Where was it?

“ _I’m fine. He was just a rookie, let me off with a warning._ ”

“Not that.” The library and the club, Waverly was certain she had it in both places. Thinking back, she could even recall grabbing it in her haste to get to Nicole's place. _Nicole's place_. She pressed her eyes shut out of frustration. “I just realized I left my bag at her place.” How could she have been so stupid, so careless?

“ _Whose place, Waves?_ ”

“The girl, the one I slept with. I still had my backpack from class and, oh my gosh, what am I going to do?”

“ _Wait,_ ” Wynonna cut her off, “ _you slept with a chick and you’ve been letting me blab on like you didn’t have bigger news to share?_ ”

“So not the point right now!” Her frustration was being wrongly directed at her sister. “I left my bag there. Everything is in there: my notes, textbooks, my planner. Oh no, my planner, Wynonna! What am I going to do?”

If she had only followed her original plan, this all could have been avoided. Her apartment, her room; no forgotten backpack.

When the panic set in, Waverly's feet kicked into gear as she changed course and started back towards her place. Breakfast would have to wait.

“ _Do you really need the thing anyways?_ ”

“I have finals in two weeks so yes, I kind of do,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. Wynonna was not grasping the magnitude of the situation.

“ _Well then, go get it,_ ” she said matter-of-factly, further frustrating Waverly.

Her feet pounded as they met the sidewalk, water splashing from the puddles left by the overnight showers. She wanted to be back in her apartment, needed to. This was a prime example of why she so often stayed within her comfort zone; predictability may be boring but it was always comforting.

Waverly would choose boring over _this_ any day.

“ _I’m only seeing two options here, baby girl._ ” The even sound of her sister’s voice was comforting and Waverly slowed her pace. Pulling her phone to her chest, she let out a breath. The brisk fall air blew through her hair, rustling the leaves on the trees above.

She wasn’t like Wynonna. Responsibility didn’t scare her, spontaneity did.

Waverly closed her eyes, biting down on her lower lip. This bed had been made by her own two hands and it was clear what must be done. That didn’t mean she had to be enthused by the idea but it wasn’t Wynonna's fault either. Taking a few deep breaths, she lifted the phone back to her ear.

“I have to figure this out,” she said. “I’ll call you back.”

When there was no teasing from Wynonna's end, just a simple " _later_ ," Waverly realized how nervous she must have sounded.

…

By asking around, Waverly was able to gather some information about the cadet training schedule. If she was going to make the very different, much less desirable walk of shame back to the woman’s house, the last thing Waverly wanted was be stuck waiting outside her door all day.

According to a girl in her advanced Latin class, whose boyfriend was in the program, Tuesdays were the slowest days for training. Considering Waverly didn’t know which courses Nicole was taking, nor did she want to risk further embarrassment by asking too many questions, this information would have to be enough. Her own classes were finished by 2 o’clock on Tuesdays and, despite the dread that accompanied the thought, she decided that was her best chance to catch the woman at home.

Three days without her planner were enough to make her realize there truly was no other option.

The streets around campus were bustling with their typical energy, students running to and from classes with city buses passing by nearly every minute. Waverly followed the sidewalk, cracked from overuse and water damage, down a steep hill. Grateful she hadn’t been too hungover after her night with the woman, Waverly was easily able to navigate her way back to the house.

If the shedding red maple tree on the front lawn wasn’t enough to jog her memory, the sight of the woman through the large front window was. She was home. It had been the biggest variable when devising her plan and Waverly couldn’t decide if she should be relieved or disappointed. On the bright side, at least she would be given no time to ruminate on the situation.

Wiping her palms against her skirt, Waverly took one final breath before walking up the stairs.

The door swung open at almost the exact instant Waverly's fist made contact with it. Her hand remained raised as she took in the woman before her, watching as her smile fell to match the confusion expressed by the rest of her face. Nicole's hair was wild, darkened by water Waverly could only assume had come from the shower.

Had she been expecting someone else?

Moving her raised hand into an awkward, half wave, Waverly smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Nicole responded, running a hand through her short locks in an attempt to tame them. It failed. “It’s Waverly, right?”

She pretended not to be offended that it was posed as a question. “Yes, that’s me.” The smile and wave again, _the god damn smile and wave_. She cursed the gestures that had been ingrained in her from a young age. “And you’re Nicole.”

An awkward laugh. “This is true. You’re here for your bag?”

Right, her bag. The sole reason for the visit. “Yes. So it is here, I couldn’t be certain…”

Nicole nodded and gestured for her to step inside. The place looked different in daylight; the bright colours were welcoming and Waverly could spot some photos framed on a bookshelf. But she felt out of place, almost like an intruder, so she tried keeping her eyes to herself.

A solid thud could be heard from a back room, followed by the patter of footsteps. The familiar orange fur was soon pressed against Nicole's leg, rubbing against her sweatpants.

“This is Jane, by the way,” she introduced, picking the cat up and cuddling it against her chest. “I don’t think there were any proper introductions that night.”

Waverly's face flushed at the mention of their night together. “Nice to put a name to that face.” In her head, she was shifting all blame for her current predicament onto the cat. Without the threat of being discovered, Waverly chose to believe she wouldn’t have forgotten to grab her backpack on the way out.

Needless to say, she didn’t pet Jane.

After that there was a silence, Jane’s purrs the only sound that filled the air. Because what was there to say?

Obviously uncomfortable with the silence, Nicole gestured over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” Cat still in her arms, she made her way down the hall.

Towards her bedroom.

Try as she might, Waverly couldn’t shake the images she associated with that room. The flashes of skin, the panting breaths, the wetness. Just the thought was nearly enough to make her shutter. She wasn’t lying to Wynonna about the orgasms.

_Orgasms_. As in plural.

Waverly was so caught up in the memories that the sound of Nicole's footsteps startled her.

“I looked inside to find your name but couldn’t decide if it would be totally creepy to message you on Facebook,” Nicole admitted sheepishly, handing the backpack over to Waverly.

_So she did know my name_ , Waverly thought. “Tough call. Can’t say I blame you.” She slid it over her shoulder, glancing around the room as she waited for Nicole to say something else but she never did. “Sorry this is so awkward.”

Nicole pressed her lips together as she nodded. “Yup.”

“This isn’t really something I do often,” Waverly explained sheepishly, “or ever, really.” Another nervous chuckle. Why was she telling this to the woman she had sex with if not to completely embarrass herself?

“That makes two of us,” Nicole said with another bob of her head.

The comment took Waverly by surprise. As did the blush covering Nicole's face. So unlike their last encounter, the woman’s confidence seemed to be lacking as she avoided eye contact completely. The tingling sensation of guilt soon made its presence known.

“I’m sorry.” When Waverly was running through possible scenarios in her head, and there had been many run, not once did she envision so many apologies. “I was such a douche canoe, I shouldn’t have left you. I just wanted the whole experience, you know? The one-night stand, the walk of shame. The complete package.”

“You wanted the walk of shame?” Nicole raised an eyebrow, her eyes meeting Waverly's.

“Pathetic, I know. I had it all very romanticized in my head, alright?” Shaking her head, Waverly let out a nervous laugh. It seemed to break the tension though as Nicole laughed along with her. “I spent so long creating this fantasy that I sort of forgot there was another person whose feelings would be involved.”

Nicole nodded. “I get it. You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

“But I really feel like I do-”

“I knew what I was getting into. Hate to break it to you but subtlety is not your strong suit.” Placing a had on her chest, Waverly mocked offense. Nicole had done nothing but confirm her own suspicion. “I might not do this often but I know the drill.”

Waverly nodded along. “That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”

Nicole opened her mouth to respond but closed it again before anything could be said.

And what more did they have to say to each other? One night together—a night that, by design, should mean nothing—didn’t mean they were any better than strangers. Strangers who had seen each other naked but strangers nonetheless.

Yet there was a reluctance to leave. _Again_.

Because Nicole didn’t feel like a stranger.

Waverly couldn’t explain it. Though their conversation had come to its natural conclusion, she continued to wrack her brain in search of anything she could say to the other woman. Something that could extend her stay; conversation had flowed so freely that night, but now?

Nothing.

And, in her desperation, Waverly realized what it was she was doing: mixing sex and feelings, confusing lust for adoration.

Nicole must think her a fool, overstaying her welcome as she had.

_So stupid._

“Thanks for the bag.” She repeated herself, taking a step towards the door. “Now you don’t ever have to see me again. Unless I engage in some illegal activity in a couple years’ time.”

“What?”

“You’re going to be a police officer, right? So maybe you’ll pull me over one day, give me a speeding ticket. Or get me out of one.” Waverly quickly corrected herself. “Not that I would expect you to do that, you seem like someone with a lot of integrity. Which is a great quality for a cop to have. But I’m rambling now, aren’t I? Sorry, it’s something I do when I’m nervous. I’ve made you uncomfortable. Again.”

“No, it’s not that. it’s just…” Her lips pressed together in a straight line before curling up at the edges. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

Waverly returned the gesture. “Of course, I remembered.” Nicole had spoken of her schooling with such passion; honestly, it was quite the turn on for Waverly.

“I never did get around to asking what you were studying, assuming you’re a student.”

“Ancient cultures and languages.” The words had barely left Nicole's mouth before she was answering. Any excuse to talk about her degree made Waverly light up. “I know it isn’t practical but I find it absolutely fascinating. I’m hoping to work in research after graduation.”

It wasn’t often that people outside of her program showed any interest in her degree so, when Nicole started asking questions, she was all too keen on answering. Waverly understood that it wasn’t the most interesting topic of conversation but Nicole's genuine interest was appreciated; she even managed to look impressed when Waverly mentioned she was fluent in Latin.

Still, she knew better than to bore the woman with too many details.

“I really should get going. I have three days worth of studying to catch up on,” Waverly said reluctantly, readjusting the backpack on her shoulder. The desire to stay was even stronger. Nicole played with the tips of her hair, now frizzy as the air around them had nearly dried it completely. _Had she been there that long already?_ “Sorry again, for stopping by.”

“Don’t apologize.” Nicole shook her head as they made their way back towards the front door.

But Waverly hesitated. Could she walk away from this woman a second time?

She turned back to face Nicole. “I know you said I was being obvious with my intentions, that you knew what I wanted, but would it be weird…Can I-” Waverly cut herself off; this was not the time to be nervous. She wouldn’t forgive herself if she left without trying. “Would it be alright if I asked what your plans are for Friday night?”

Something flickered over Nicole's face, surprise maybe. Waverly tried her best to keep her composure. “I don’t see the harm in asking.” There was a pause and then, “I don’t have any plans, by the way.”

A rush of air blew from Waverly's lips. “Cool beans,” she said before she could stop herself. “Oh god…”

Nicole only laughed as Waverly cradled her head in her hands. “Hand me your phone.” Nicole reached out her hand towards Waverly. “I’ll give you my number.”

Embarrassed, Waverly handed over her phone without protest. She watched as nimble fingers tapped across the screen, adding her own contact information before sending herself a message so she would have Waverly's number as well.

“Thanks,” Waverly said sheepishly when she was handed back her phone, slipping it back into her purse. “I guess I’ll see you Friday?”

Nodding, Nicole smiled. “Friday.”

And then she was back outside.

The time it took for Waverly to get from Nicole's place to the bus stop was a blur. It felt like she was floating, flying. Not only because she had a date to look forward to, but because of her own courage Three months ago, Waverly never could have dreamt she would be so bold.

Still beaming as she waited for the bus, Waverly felt her phone vibrate.

_Nicole Haught:_  
_It’s a date_

Waverly rolled her eyes at how corny the other woman was but grinned nonetheless. It was only after Waverly had sufficiently absorbed the content of the message that she noticed the name attached. More specifically, the last name.

_Haught._

Wynonna was going to have an absolute field day with that one.

But Waverly didn’t care.

Because she had a date.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Sam Smith's "Stay with Me." For this fic, I suggest Lena Hall's cover.


End file.
